Fallen Renegade
by Tessa Saddie Bridger
Summary: Slade Wilson aka Deathstroke was there the night the Flying Grayson's fell. An orphaned child alone in the forest. How could he resist? Meet Renegade, the Gray Bird. Apprentice to Deathstroke. Child of Slade Wilson.
1. Prologue

**Fallen Renegade**

**Prologue**

Slade Wilson aka Deathstroke was there the night the Flying Grayson's fell. An orphaned child alone in the forest. How could he resist? Meet Renegade, the Gray Bird. Apprentice to Deathstroke. Child of Slade Wilson.

'All those years ago, back when we first met... why did you take me in?'

"I was on my way back from a contract - katana in hand - when I saw a little kid in a costume with a mask in hand, blood covering their arms. I looked at you, and I saw something special. A spark in your eyes. You don't remember that night, do you?"

'No. Not really. Only flashes.'

"I asked you where your parents were, and you pointed to the stars... When I looked into your eyes, I saw a child with no fear, no hope, no future, and nothing else to lose. But behind all that saddens, and pain... I saw a fire. I saw it burning in your soul; dimmed only by grief. I wanted to help. I needed to bring that fire inside of you back."


	2. Chapter 1: When Heaven Meets Hell

**Chapter 1 – When Heaven Meets Hell**

**Dick Grayson P.O.V**

The day started out normal, just like every day does. It was cloudless with nice weather. Which, in Gotham, was almost as rare as a day without crime. There was a magnificent sunset that painted the sky magenta and gold. It was truly breathtaking.

Before the show started, my _soră, sister,_ and I were playing on the grass surrounding the circus grounds. We were practising some of our flips and tricks in a field nearby as we talked about nothing and everything. I always loved these times that I spent with my little sister, they were just so peaceful. There was something so special about her company. But of course, I didn't realise this until it was too late.

We heard our names being called in the distance and quickly ran off to find our parents. _Mamî, mummy,_ probably wanted us for lunch before we go to our final practice. I raced my sister back to our trailer, pushing each other around as we ran.

"For the last time – _No_!" Mr Haly yelled at a man who was stumbling out of his trailer, cracking a whip near him. "Now get off my property while you can still walk."

We stopped running and stared at Mr Haly and the other man as the random guy told their ringmaster that he would regret not listening and that he would be calling up Tony Zucco soon.

I turned around to see Skylaina petting one of the baby elephants; Sitka, soothingly, a worried look on her face. The man turned around in a hurry and knocked me over as he went.

"Come on," Skye urged as Sitka helped me stand up, "let's go. Mamî is waiting for us." She was pulling on my arm as we ran the rest of the way to our trailer. I pushed the memory of Mr Haly to the back of my mind when I saw our mother standing on the deck to greet us. her smile was all the reassurance I ever needed.

"Hurry up you two, your dinner is getting cold," Mamî told us as she turned to walk inside. I vaulted over the railing with Skye at my heal as we dashed inside.

"Do you kids ever use the stairs?" _Tatî, daddy,_ asked in exasperation as we sat down at the table.

"Why would they John?" asked Mamî. "They found a shortcut, they're going to use it," she told him. Her voice full of love as she told her husband the inevitable. Some things you just can't prevent.

"Thank you!" exclaimed Skye. "See Tatî, Mamî gets us."

"Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, children of all ages!" Mr Haly's voice boomed around the arena. "I present to you, the _Fearless Flying Grayson's!"_

Mr Haly waited for me and my family to step into the spotlight, shed our robes and wave to the crowd before he continued. "As always, performing their daring feet, without the safety of a net! And now meet the youngest members of this amazing family!" Jack announced. My sister and I intertwined our hands and raised them above our heads. With a final smile at us, our parents flew off.

They did flips and turns as if they were flying through the air, soaring like the mighty eagle. My sister jumped into my mother's waiting arms, who elegantly flipped her to our father, then swinging back to catch me.

The feeling of flying... it's impossible to describe. It's wonderful and amazing and exhilarating. Being up there with my sister is freedom. Getting to soar high above when all the worries in the world would disappear – like living in the clouds.

_It was heaven._

Skylaina and my finale before we left the spotlight to our parents, was performing the quadruple flip. There were only four people in the entire world who could do this. And I was lucky enough to call them my family. I flipped to from Mamî to Tatî, my Soră soaring above me in the opposite direction as we flipped in perfect sync.

_Unu, one._

_Două, two._

_Trei, three._

_Patru, four._

_Am reusit, we did it!_

The happiness I felt and the adrenaline that flowed through my veins made me feel giddy as I made it back to the starting platform first with Skye landing next to me a few seconds later. Embracing my Soră in delight.

That victorious moment was ruined, however when we heard something over the roar of the crowd that wasn't meant to happen. We looked up simultaneously at the sound of rattling metal and saw the bolts that kept our parents alive, about to fling off into oblivion.

Fear flashed in Skye's eyes as she realised what was happening, she reached out to our parents as they swung up to us; Tatî holding Mamî's ankles. Our mother's face changing from pride to fear in the moment of temporal stillness before she arched back down. She had seen what was happening. She saw, and she grieved. I saw the look in her aster blue eyes.

_Regret_.

She knew she was going to die. She just knew. The look on her face said it all. My sister lost her footing in her panic as our parents descended, never to fly again.

_"Cer!" _My voice broke as I called out her name. I couldn't lose her too. I barely had time to grab her hand as she slipped off the platform.

_"Skye, Dick..."_ our mother's voice was soft as she fell. Our parent's eyes wide and full of terror, they embraced each other as they plummeted to their demise. It wasn't a pretty sight. This was why they were always so strict with us when it came to practice and performing without a net. _Accidents can happen, _they always said_._

Watching on in horror, our parents hit the floor with a loud _crack_. Their bodies a broken and bloody mess on the circus floor. Screams and cries filled my ears as panic erupted through the crowd. My little sister's life was hanging in my hands – _literally_. Tearing my eyes away from our mother and father, I pulled Skye back onto the platform.

_But this wasn't an accident._ I remembered the argument Mr Haly had with the scary dude; it had to have been him. But at that moment, I had to focus on my sister. She was all I had left.

I held her shoulders as I made sure she was unharmed - which she was. Then I pulled her into a tight embrace, determined to hide her away from the rest of the world.

I felt her bury her face in my chest and her tears soak my uniform._ "Frate, brother,"_ she cried, _"s-au dus, they're gone."_

_And then it was hell._

**I hope you enjoyed. Please feel free to comment any ideas for the story that you would like to see. Feedback and constructive criticism are appreciated. Thanks for reading.**


	3. Chapter 2: And Then There Was Death

**Chapter 2 – And Then There Was Death**

**Skye Grayson P.O.V**

It was horrible. One of the worst days of my life in a very long time. Dangling from a platform by my brother's hand. Forced to witness the death of our parents. Knowing that we had to live on without them. That was what hurt the most. A part of me died as well that night. It's a strange thing to say, especially as a child, but it's true. I felt hollow. Like there was nothing inside of me anymore. It was as if a part of my soul had left me that night.

After Richard pulled me up, everything was a blur. I don't know how I could even see with all the tears in my eyes. I must have tripped over half a dozen times before I finally stopped running. And yeah, I ran. I was suffocating. The screaming; the chaos; it was intoxicating. It was _killing_ me.

We made it down from the platform with shaky hands. I followed slowly after Dick as he ran over to our parents' broken bodies. Their arms and legs were bent at odd angles in a tangled mess. Their skulls were bashed in.

_They weren't breathing._

Lying in a pool of their own blood, my brother knelt down beside them, begging them to wake up. But I knew they never would. Their hearts had stopped beating.

_There was silence_.

They were lost to the world forever… I should have said something. _Done_ something, _anything_. I even heard Tony Zucco threatening Mr Haly, yet I did nothing. _Nothing_ to save our parents.

_Why did this always have to happen?_

I couldn't take it. Seeing them; lying motionless like that on the floor. Where only minutes ago I had been hugging them both for good luck; lungs breathing deeply, heart beating strongly. _But now…_ it just hurt. All I knew was pain. _And it was all my fault._

So I left. Snuck out the back just as the police arrived. The last thing I heard was my brother screaming as a cop dragged him away from their lifeless forms.

_Sorry, Dickie. But everyone I get close to dies._

I had to do this. For him. No one else was dying because of me. I tore my eyes away from my brother, best friend in the whole wide world, I turned my back on him and I ran. I must have been running for longer than I originally thought, because the sounds of the circus, _my home_, were long gone. Vanished in the night, _just like me._ It was almost completely dark, save the few brave stars peeking out through the thick clouds.

I found a tree. Now you're probably like '_wow, really? I never would have guessed! It's not like you're in a forest or anything.'_ But I mean I found a really good tree to climb. It was one of those 'Cloud Forest Oak' trees, with the really long, thick branches. Perfect to lie down on. I remember sitting up there, just crying. I lost track of how long I stayed up there on that massive tree branch.

I must have dozed off leaning against the trunk at some point, because the next thing I knew, something snapped, startling me awake. I had heard something. But after ten minutes of sitting absolutely still, I got bored and decided it must have been an animal. I was in a forest after all. It would be strange (and probably even creepier) if it _was_ completely soundless.

Then I spotted a vine and a clear path to a nearby tree. My whole brain just went, _what the hell!_ I Tarzan'ed my way across the clearing. A smile lifted my face as adrenaline flowed through my veins. With the wind vibrating in my ears as I soared over the clearing. This is how I was meant to be,_ free._

Being a kid with way too much energy, I could never sit still for long periods of time. It just didn't happen, unless I focused really, _really_ hard. Tonight, was not one of those nights. I walked along the branched, wishing more than anything to turn back time.

_Why couldn't things be the way they were before?_

Looking down at the ground far below, I single tear roll down my face and I watched as it fell through the air and hit the forest floor. _They_ taught me never to fear height. It made no difference where the ground was, only your ability to perform. But now they were gone.

I was broken out of my trance when a man dressed in black and orange with more weapons strapped to him than I could count – about six-foot tall – called out to me.

"Hey, kid. Shouldn't you be in bed?"

Probably. I simply shrugged in response, not moving from my perch. If this guy was bad news, at least I was out of immediate reach. I was about seven meters up, meaning he'd have to jump a little over five meters to reach me. Only by super strength or magic could he get up here. _Please don't be a wizard. Please don't be a wizard._

"You shouldn't be out this late," he continued to look up at me. "It's not safe." I think he saw the blood of my parents on my arms and uniform because her whole stance changed. He took his mask off and held his hands out in front of him in the universal sign to relax.

At that moment, light broke through the canopy and shone down on his face. It was then that I knew I could trust him. I don't know why. To this day, I still have no idea what made me trust him so easily. It was something in his eyes. Something kind. They say that your brain decides whether or not to trust someone within the first tenth of a second of seeing their face. Guess this was one of those times.

He probably figured that I was already freaking out enough without the two-toned orange and black mask covering his face. Which was true. What I didn't expect though, was his hair to be white. I repeat: _white_. Which seemed out of place in the dark and creepy forest… and also, kinda strange.

Now, you might be thinking _'White hair; old guy; Creep.' _But no. Despite the head full of white hair – not grey from age, I'm talking _pure_ white – he looked to be in his prime. Mid-thirties if I had to guess. Albino maybe? Gods, what did I know?

Deciding that I really didn't care what happened to me anymore, I jumped off the branch, backflipping twice in the air before I landed soundlessly before him. I just couldn't help myself. It was too deeply ingrained into my instincts by now. His left eyebrow – again, completely white – was raised ever so slightly at my display of talent as he gazed down at me.

_Dammit. I hate being short sometimes._

In the back of my mind, I took in his appearance and wondered what he was doing out here. Kitted out in a full grey-black combat suit (basically cargo pants, shirt, and a whole lot of body armour), with touches of orange and blue here and there on devices and such. And he had a katana in his hand. _Seriously! A Katana!_

Which made me kinda regret leaving my perch, because now I realised two things. One; I could be in serious danger. And two; how short I was. I was actually a whole two feet shorter than him. Why'd I have to be so short? I never felt this short around my parents, who were shorter than average.

_My parents…_ of course, I had to remind myself of the recent catastrophe which had befallen my family. My wonderful parents who could never again witness another sunrise or another rainy day. They'd never get to fly. They died _falling_.

They weren't supposed to fall. They were my parents – they weren't supposed to _bleed_. And now my brother has to learn how to live without his parents. Because of me, Dick has to grow up without the support of his parents. Without the care of a mother. Without the love of a father.

And then I had to leave. To protect my brother, I could never see him again…

_I'm sorry Richard._

I must have zoned out for longer than I thought because old mate katana guy was kneeling down in front of me. One hand taking my pulse against my neck and the other holding onto my upper arm, assumedly to keep me standing. Which was kind of a good thing since I had a bad habit of passing out, hitting my head, and then getting a concussion, just, not always in that order… somehow… You know, normal stuff.

Then it registered that this man was holding me, even if it was only to check that I was alright, I freaked out. I panicked at the close proximity to another human, yanked my arm out of the man's grasp and pulled away from his touch, taking about seven paces back. Seven was the most powerfully magical number. _At least I'm safe if he's a wizard, _I thought. _Screwed if he's anything else though. _I added dryly.

"Kid, I'm not gonna hurt you," he said, standing up. But he didn't come any closer, which I was grateful for. "You should head home." I only shook my head to that. A bit hard to do that when I don't even _have_ a home.

"Where are your parents, kid?" his voice was smooth and low as he spoke. Almost gentle, like he knew the answer before he had even asked. I shook my head again and pointed to the heavens. Bringing my arms back down by my sides, I squeezed my hands into fists, feeling my nails digging into my skin.

The man came closer to me, sheathing the katana and raising his hands to show that he was unarmed. _Ish_. If you don't count all the weapons strapped to him.

Feeling something warm and sticky drip off my hands, I unclenched my hands and watched my mask noiselessly flutter to the ground. I hadn't even realised I had taken it off, let alone was still holding onto it. I saw crescent moon shaped cuts in my palm from where my nails had cut into my skin, blood seeping out. But I couldn't feel it. I couldn't feel anything anymore. Not the cuts in my skin nor the gaping hole in my heart. I had become numb to all pain. I think my body had given up at that point.

I still don't know why I did what I did next. It was just one of those 'on the whim of the current' moments. It didn't make any sense to do. The logical part of my brain told me it was pointless. But who was I to listen to reason?

Ignoring the numb sensation that flooded through me and the crimson blood staining the sage grass, I shakily moved my hands in a series of gestures. _I don't have a home._

What I didn't expect – like _at all_ – was for the man in front of me to sign back. \

_What's your name?_ I was almost too stunned to answer. It wasn't that he knew sign language, but that he knew _Auslan_ (aka _Australian_ sign-language). What are the chances? In America, in the middle of the night, I run into a guy with an Aussie accent who speaks Australian sign.

_No name, _I signed back. _Who I was, died with my parents. _I think I wanted a change of name. I couldn't be Skylaina Mary Grayson anymore. There was nothing left for her here. She was dead. It was time to move on.

_My name is D-E-A-T-H-S-T-R-O-K-E, _he signed.

And being sign language, names don't have specific signs. So, the first time you introduce yourself, you spell out your name, and then do a 'name sign'. Which is normally the first letter of your name done a certain way. Then every time you do that sign or other people's name signs, you say their name without having to spell it out each time.

I signed back _hello_. A simple movement with the right hand, palm facing away, moving from the temple outwards. Then I made his name sign to show I understood.

A cloud drifted in the wind, leaving a silver glow shining down on me. Then I felt the weight of the world resting on my shoulders. The numbness was gone. Replaced by something much, _much,_ worse. It was one of those moments where I felt my entire future riding on. Something important was going to happen here.

What? I had no idea.

_And that's what terrified me. _

**I hope you enjoyed. Please feel free to comment any ideas for the story that you would like to see. Feedback and constructive criticism are appreciated. Thanks for reading.**


	4. Chapter 3: The Apprentice Is Born

**Chapter 3 – The Apprentice Is Born**

**Skye Grayson P.O.V**

"What happened?"

It was a simple enough question, but one I just couldn't answer.

Since I first entered Romania? Not too much. Since I was _born_? _Eh_, it would've been faster to ask what _hadn't_ happened.

I was hesitant to answer, but the katana dude (sorry, _Deathstroke_) asked again is Auslan. I still didn't look up at him as I signed though. They say the eyes are the window to the soul. I guess I didn't want him to see the darkness inside of me. Once the darkness got out it wouldn't stop until everyone was dead. _Everyone I care about either gets hurt or dies because of me. I don't want to be responsible for my brother's death. I left to protect him… I can't go back._

"Hey, look at me," he said softly. "No one is going to die."

I lifted my head and my eyes caught katana dude's gaze (_Deathstroke_. Why is that so hard to remember? I really need to stop calling him katana dude, it's just weird). His eyes were unyielding as looked at me. Gentle, yet powerful, eyes seemed to burn into my very soul. _Dammit, he's-a soul reader. _How did he know? How could he promise me that no one else would die?

"Let me help you," he said. His voice smooth as he spoke, coaxing me to listen. To_ trust _him.

"I can save you, if you let me," his tone was soft and gentle. "I can help you." Like he knew everything I was going through. He was trying to break through my walls; he wanted me to let him in. and the worst bit; _it was working_. "Help you get justice for your parent's murder."

My parents… Tony Zucco killed them, and I was the only person who knew. How he knew they were murdered, I have no clue. Probably an educated guess. All I knew was Zucco got away with slaughtering my family, and I was going to make him pay.

_'I don't understand…' _I signed. _'How?'_

"Come with me," he said. "Let me teach you how not to die."

I felt my head told in confusion without permission. _Was he going to… train… me? To do what? _My uncertainty evidently showed on my face, so he went on to explain further.

I chewed my lip as I weighed out my options, searching for any misgiving in his face. But I found none. Not a shred of dishonesty in his offer that I could see or sense.

Deathstroke said he would teach me; show me how to get revenge for my parents – _if_, I agreed to become his apprentice in return. To train by his side, learn all he has to offer, and obey his every command. Apart from sounding slightly cynical, it was a fair deal in my opinion. Though I didn't understand why he wanted an apprentice (or why he wanted _me_ as his apprentice anyway, 'cause it was clear that he wanted a successor of some description), or what he got out of it. Though I wasn't brave enough to ask. I figured I should agree, cause why not? I had nowhere else to go anyway.

I lifted my gaze up to meet his, nothing but sincerity and understanding in his grey-blue eyes.

He stood up slowly and offered his hand to me. This was my future, my decision. Gingerly stepping up to the man in orange and black, I placed my small hand in his outstretched one, feeling, rather than seeing, his hand completely envelope my own.

After a few minutes of silence, I tugged on the man's hand once to get his attention and signed a question to him. Difficult as it was to see in the dead of night, he made out the words just fine and answered accordingly. _'Where are we going?'_

"I have a safe house not far from here. Just past the tree line I have a car waiting." I nodded my head in affirmation as we continued to walk, seemingly aimlessly, through the dark woods.

It was then that I started to feel woozy; the world appeared to be spinning and my stomach decided now was the best time to rehearse one of my routines on the trapeze. There was something warm trailing down my arm, I peered down to discover my folded arms had allowed my fingers to tear into my flesh, splitting the skin in multiple places. I uncrossed my arms and watched, almost in a trance, my own blood running down my arms and dripping off my fingers, into the dirt.

I raised my hands before my face as they started to shake uncontrollably. _Blood. There was so much blood. _I blinked my eyes to erase the terrible memory from my mind. _Dead. Broken. So much blood. Cold and empty. They would be forgotten by the world. And so, would I. _

I remember a constricting feeling in m chest, the pressure was so great I could hardly breathe. Screams echoed inside my head and I fell to the ground as the world turned black.

**I hope you enjoyed. Please feel free to comment any ideas for the story that you would like to see. Feedback and constructive criticism are appreciated. Thanks for reading.**


	5. Chapter 4 - This Is Not The End

**Chapter 4 – This Is Not the End**

**Slade Wilson P.O.V**

After the child signed the question to me, I manoeuvred my arm to encase her shoulders, gently guiding her through the dark forest. She seemed fine to walk in sync with me for the majority of the trip. Until she wasn't. The kid just suddenly stopped moving. I was two steps in front of her by this point, but I could tell something was wrong. I moved forward quickly, grasping her hands to shake her out of her trans-like-state.

It was then that I felt a warm substance trail down my hand. I recognised the sensation immediately. It was blood. Her nails must have dug into her skin deeper than I thought. Either her nails were unusually sharp enough to pierce her skin or she was stronger than she looked. Most likely the latter if her ability to backflip in the air was anything to go by.

I released her hands, discreetly wiping the blood on my pants before I did anything more. I rested a hand on her mop of jet-black hair, carefully making her look up at me and away from her blood-covered hands. What I saw was not what I expected. Dull eyes that seemed incapable of human emotions. She was emotionless. _Numb._

She had not uttered a word, which led me to conclude that she was mute. Either by choice or trauma, I couldn't be sure. She had abruptly stopped walking to stare down at her hands in dismay. It was strangely silent. She wasn't even breathing. Everything seemed to stand still. She looked as if she was seeing something that wasn't really there.

My suspicions were confirmed, however, at the return of short, shallow breathing. The kid was going into shock. _Dammit. _I recognised the symptoms as the early stages of a panic attack. I jumped into action, hoping to prevent it from becoming a full-blown attack.

"Hey, kid. It's okay. It's not real." I knelt down in front of her, worry increasing when there was no response. I seized her arms and shook her gently. Nothing.

"Kid. No one else is here. It's just you and me." I brushed a section of stray hair out of her eyes, becoming more desperate to help her. I pressed two fingers against her neck, finking her pulse erratic and dangerously fast. If she did not calm down soon, her heart could be at risk of failure.

"Nothing is going to happen to you, but I need you to calm down, kid." I pulled the small child into my chest as I spoke into her ear. "No one is going to hurt you. You're safe. You're okay. No one will touch you as long as I am here." I could feel her body suddenly relax and stop the violent shaking that had taken over her entire being. Her breathing began to even out and she seemed to come back to the present. The girl's breathing came to match mine as her head rested against my chest. Her eyes were squeezed shut; skin cold to the touch.

I gathered the small child up on my arms, one hand slipped under her knees and the other around her shoulder and carried her the rest of the way. She must have been exhausted, after a small sound of protest of momentarily being separated from me, she settled right back down again, her head came to rest against my chest once more. After that, she was out like a light; weighing almost nothing in my arms. Her young face was twisted in concern as she slept fitfully. Almost out of the tree line, the child readjusted herself in my arms, curling in closer in search of warmth.

I understood the comfort she took in hearing my heartbeat; it was the same oddity with my own brood. She had calmed down when I forced her body to relax, her head was pressed up against my chest, my heartbeat was the only other thing for her to focus on. The idea was that a steady rhythm that screamed 'life' would calm anyone down and their pulse would eventually match the initiators.

She mumbled something in a Slavic sounding language (Russian maybe?), before stilling once more. Well, that narrowed down her place of origin to only thirty-odd countries. I filed the information away for later, regarding the girl for a few moments.

The only indication that she was still alive was the steady rise and fall of her chest as she breathed. I made a mental note to discover the kid's name. Despite her wish to leave her life behind, I had to know who she was. What had happened to her family? What really happened? I had no doubt that a missing child report would be circulating soon enough.

I set her down in the back seat opposite of the driver's and clipped the seat belt into place. Retrieving a jacket to drape over the now shivering child, I closed the door. What had I gotten myself into?

The drive was quiet and uneventful. When I pulled up at my current base, I looked over the girl more closely. There was a thin white scar trailing over her right eye, about seven centimetres long. It was concerning to see a child so small to be scared for life. Upon closer inspection, I realised the scar had been formed by some type of dagger or sword, only making my concern increase. What had she been involved in to cause such damage? Had her sight been affected by the injury?

Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I carried her into the house, heading straight for the spare room. I laid her down and pulled the covers out from underneath her. Taking a proper look at her clothes, I had a sinking suspicion that this child had come from the visiting circus. _Her family must have been performers, _I realised. That would explain the accent and completion, so foreign to the States.

I recalled when she launched herself of that tree back in the woods, not a shred of fear to be seen as she twisted her body twice as her preferred method of transport. She'd probably grown up as part of their act.

Slipping her shoes off, I pulled the covers over her small frame. There would be time to talk later.

"William, there's a – _ahh…_ _situation_. I'm at base six with a kid. I could use some advice."

"Slade, my boy, what have you gotten yourself into?"

"A homicide; although I suspect an assassination, in the visiting circus nearby, judging by the kid… The kid, I found her in a forest; covered in blood, Will." Slade looked down the hall to the bedroom where the child slept. She was going to have to live with that trauma for the rest of her life.

"Billy, I think the blood… I think it's from her parents."


	6. Chapter 5 - Hello Darkness My Old Friend

Chapter 5 – Hello Darkness My Old Friend

**Chapter 5 – Hello Darkness My Old Friend**

**Slade Wilson P.O.V**

_"Billy, I think the blood… I think it's from her parents."_

"Blood? Slade, is she alright?"

"Her parents were murdered, Will. Right in front of her." I looked at one of my many monitors, a circus poster on one, and a news report on another.

"She was part of a family act in the Haly's Circus. The Flying Graysons. Kid lost everything…"

"Far out, Slade… And you took her?"

"Better me than a Talon. You know Gotham is crawling with them, Billy. What do I do with her?"

"She is a child, yes? Treat her as you would your own boys." With that, the older man cut the connection, leaving me alone with his thoughts.

What the hell, old man? Why was it that every time I come to Billy for advice, I just ended up being even more confused than before I asked? That man was always cryptic when it came to advice: never just giving a simple answer.

**Skye Grayson P.O.V**

I didn't know where I was, only that it was dark, and I was lying on a comfy bed. A comfy and warm bed. My face was wet with tears. Nightmare. Mamî și Tatî și _Frati, brother _were all killed.

I looked around but not an ounce of light met my eyes. This wasn't my home. My bed was not this soft. Our trailer was never so quiet. You could always hear the calls of the animals or the rustle of movement from outside. It was warmer than normal too. But most of all, it was pitch black.

I sat up in the bed, pushing the covers off of myself as I went. My hands were sticky, and I could feel a hard, dry substance on them cracking as I moved them. With my hands stretched out in front of me, I found a door handle and pushed it open.

I was now standing in a long, narrow hallway. I lifted my hands to my face so I could inspect the source of the irritation.

_Blood._

I felt bile rise up in my mouth. _It was real. It was all real. _My legs turned to jelly beneath me and the next thing my mind registered, I was on the floor.

_Nu, nu… this didn't happen. They can't be gone._

I didn't… I just couldn't believe it.

_Why? Why?!_

I didn't realise that I was crying until I felt the dried blood on my hands start running once more – my tears had soaked my hands.

_I couldn't breathe. I couldn't see. Everything was closing in around me. It was too loud. All too loud. The screaming. The screaming just wouldn't stop._

I clamped my blood-stained hands over my ears to block out the terrible sound.

_"Stop, stop it, stop it! Please!"_

I banged my head repeatedly against the ground. The screaming got even louder. The sickly-sweet smell of blood grew stronger. I wanted to throw up. I was all too horrible.

I could see them. Broken, bloody and unmoving. They were dead. They were gone. My parents were killed – murdered.

At that moment, the contents of my stomach decided to empty itself on the floor. The bile in my mouth made my eyes sting. _It was too much._ It was times like these which made me want to curl up in a ball and pretend I didn't exist. Maybe if I pretended not to exist, the world would forget I was alive as well.

"Hey, breathe." This voice was different. It sounded closer. Quieter. It wasn't shouting or screaming. It was a man's voice. Deep, calm and soothing, it demanded respect. There was something in the way that the voice spoke that made me listen. My body acted without my consent, my breathing slowly evening out.

"You're okay. In, out. Focus on my voice. Just breathe." There was so much going on, it was hard to isolate a single voice. But then I could feel something on my back. It was comforting and gentle with a warmth that flowed from it and into my skin.

Everything seemed to become lighter. It was easier to breathe and the noise surrounding me became quieter until the only sound left came from myself and the person beside me. I could feel another hand grab onto my arm, squeezing it just enough so that I knew it was there. _It was real_. The world stopped spinning in an instant.

"That's it. You're okay. You're safe." The warmth that came from the hand was so reassuring; the voice so kind; it made me feel safe. Like nothing in the world could hurt me.

_Too late._

I looked through the dimly lit hallway and found the eyes of my rescuer. The man from the forest. _Deathstroke. _I remembered him. He was nice. He helped me. And even better, I remembered, he could understand me.

_'Where am I?' _I signed best I could with only one hand, as my other was busy supporting my weight against the floor.

"A safe house," came the verbal reply. His voice was low and direct. He spoke quietly enough that my head didn't start spinning again. The hand on my back moved to my unoccupied arm, and as he stood up slowly, he brought me with him, turning my body so I was facing him. He didn't say anything or try to make me move. We just stayed like that while my head sorted itself out.

When my mind finally figured out what in Hades was going on, I brought my hands close to my chest and signed a single word to the man, all the while aware of his hands still holding my arms gently.

_'Sorry.' _A double motion with a clawed hand near the mouth. He only nodded and repeated his earlier words.

"You're okay. You are safe. What is happening is not your fault." When I nodded in response he spoke again, "are you hungry?"

The thought of food made my stomach churn. I shook my head twice. When I felt Deathstroke's gaze finally lift off of me, I lifted my head slightly, peaking out through a curtain of grimy black hair. He was looking down the hallway at something I could not see. I heard him sigh deeply and I averted my gaze.

"Come on," and with those words, he relocated a hand to rest on the back of my neck after pushing my hair out of the way. His other hand remained by his side. He led me down the hall with a light pressure against my neck directing me where to go.

When we entered the kitchen, the warmth disappeared from the back of my neck and Deathstroke signed for me to sit. A movement with both hands making the shape of a chair moving in a downwards motion. I walked over to the island bench and pulled out the barstool. I had to climb to get on because it was so high, and I was – and still am – a short stack of pancakes.

A glass of water was placed on the bench. I held it in both hands and took a long sip, grateful to have something to get that foul taste out of my mouth. Deathstroke had his back towards me as he busied himself with whatever he was doing. The silence was broken only when he placed a mug of brown liquid in front of me. The rich aroma of chocolate was heavenly sweet.

"Hot chocolate," he said quietly. And then, as if feeling that he had to justify his actions he added, "sugar – it will help you feel better."

Time went by and I slowly drained the mug of its contents. I sat silently, not bothered to initiate a conversation. And the man, Deathstroke, didn't seem to mind. Although my eyes were locked onto the mug in my blood-stained hands, I could feel his intense stare as it bore into me. But it wasn't uncomfortable. He seemed to be considering something as he looked at me, his mind in a far-off place.

Eventually, after I had finished my drink, he signed for me to follow him. I did so and was led back down the hall. He opened a door on the right, revealing a pristine bathroom. He flicked on the light switch and moved his finger in a 'come here' motion.

I did so without hesitation. I could remember last night a lot better now. I didn't know how or why, but I just knew that I could trust him. I could feel it in my bones. _He was safe._

There was a gentle light in his eyes as I came closer; an emotion I couldn't read nor comprehend lay within. He reached for my hands and began whipping the blood away with a warm cloth. My hands tingled from the sensation. Rinsing out the cloth once more, Deathstroke took a few steps closer to me, closer than he had been just a moment ago and knelt down on one knee. He cupped my chin with his right hand and turned my face to the side slightly. I was too shocked to pull away. No one had ever touched me like that besides my family.

But a moment later he brought the wet washer up and began to clean my face. I hadn't realised that I was covered in so much blood, but the evidence was right there in front of me. The once white piece of cloth now red from my blood. _And the blood of my parents._

"There are some clothes for you on the counter. Have a shower and come into the kitchen when you're ready." With that, the door was closed and I was left alone in the rather large bathroom.

I stripped off my uniform without looking at it and stepped into the shower. I didn't need to see it to know it was soaked in blood as well. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror; I still had blood and dirt on my arms and in my hair. I looked like death reincarnate. _I was barefoot and bruised in a strange place. Great._

I turned on the tap and was assaulted by ice-cold water running down my spine, but I couldn't bring myself to move. Soon enough the water warmed up to a comfortable temperature and I stared dully as mine and my parents' blood washed down the drain. Every sorrow and sin erased. I allowed the water to clean my soul and wash away all the pain and memories of my life. It was in the past. That life was over now. Hakuna Matata.

I scrubbed the blood from under my fingernails and washed the grime out of my mattered hair. I simply stood under the pouring faucet for a while longer, allowing myself to finally relax. When I stepped out, I actually felt alive. I was clean and felt like I could finally breathe. I dried myself with a fluffy green towel and dressed quickly. The clothes were way too big on me, but I didn't really mind. They were comfy and warm.

I didn't bother with the socks though. I figured they would be more of a tripping hazard than anything else. Plus, I liked being barefoot. I left the bathroom and walked towards the kitchen once more. I could hear what I knew to be metal clanging together and that was enough to peak my five-year-old interests'.

Upon entering the room, I discovered Deathstroke cooking at the stovetop. I knocked on the door softly to announce my presence. He turned around and signed for me to come over. I complied and he lifted the pot off the stove and down to my eye-level.

There was a creamy coloured goo inside with a consistency similar to porridge, yet it smelled so much better. All the sudden, I actually wanted to eat, never mind my stomach's performance only a half-hour earlier. Deathstroke filled up a bowel and led me to the same chair as before, sliding a spoon along the bench once I was settled.

My eyes widened in amazement at the taste. It was incredible. Definitely better than porridge. It was thick and creamy; rice-based. I never thought food could taste so good. If only everything could be so simple. Food was good and blood was bad. The simple things in life, like food, were enough to lift anyone's spirits.

I snuck a peek at Deathstroke every now and then in between bites of food, but every time I peeked, his unyielding eyes were studying me. I couldn't read any emotions behind his eyes, which was strange. It was far different from the look in my parents' eyes, unseeing and unalive. No, he was well and truly alive. Intelligence beyond anything I had ever know lay within cold, harsh eyes.


	7. Chapter 6 - Revelations

Chapter 6 – Revelations

**Chapter 6 – Revelations**

**Slade Wilson P.O.V**

"Are you injured?" I asked suddenly. There was still blood under her fingers. Kyla shook her head no and continued on eating.

"Kid, if there is something wrong, I need to know about it. Even a small cut could get infected." With some reluctance, she released her spoon and laid her arms across the bench. Small moon shaped cuts littered her skin, some much deeper than others. Self-inflicted. I nodded and grabbed the first aid kit from a nearby cupboard. I used an alcohol wipe on the numerous abrasions and applied a cream to the deeper ones. When I finished the girl pulled her arms back, hugging her right knee to her chest. She lifted up her pant leg and looked at a jagged cut with mild interest. It was fresh and had clotted messily. I had to remove the clotting to properly clean the gash. I studied her face while wrapping a bandage around her leg. Not a hint of pain. Just a strange mix of curiosity and apathy.

"All done," I told her. "Thank you for tell me." I knew that it wasn't easy to trust a stranger, especially after losing everything. It wasn't much, but it was a step in the right direction.

**Skylaina Grayson P.O.V**

"Kid, it's late. You should be asleep." I turned my head to see Deathstroke was standing as the bedroom door, casting a shadow into the room from the light in the hallway. His face almost blended into the darkness of the bedroom, save for the white hair. His attire was casual, tracksuit pants and a t-shirt, I looked like something my Tatî would wear to bed. I missed them. It had been fifty-two hours since I last saw my parents and I missed them _so much. _Everything had hanged. Nothing would ever be the same again… including me.

I simply shrugged, not bothering to sign anything in the dimly lit room. He would probably see it anyway, but I wasn't in the mood to talk. My mind was in a far-off place. What if running had been a mistake? What if _they_ decided to take Frate instead? Would a family taking him in be enough to keep them away? Maybe I should have let them take me. Maybe I should go, let them find me and take me away. What if it was the only way to keep Dick safe? It would be easier that way. At least I would know he was safe. And no matter what I did, I could never see him again.

"Kid, what's going on?" Deathstroke's voice was closer now. I glanced out the open window. Past my feet, the drop was only two meters or so. If I jumped or was pushed, either way, I'd be fine, wouldn't even leave a scratch. I curled my fingers a little tighter over the windowsill _just in case. _It was a habit that I would probably never break. The cool breeze felt nice on my face. The air seemed just a little easier to breathe. It wasn't tainted. I was bouncing my legs off the side of the house quietly, a gentle _tha-thump_ accompanying every kick. My hair was blowing across my face in the wind.

A large hand closed around my shoulder tightly enough that the only way I could escape it was to go down, but soft enough that it didn't actually hurt. It held me in such a way that it could pull me back into the room in a second. It wasn't how you would prepare to push somebody.

"Look at me kiddo," he requested quietly. He sounded like a man at the end of his rope, and, not wanting to make my rescuer mad, I complied reluctantly. "I can help you, but I need to know what's going on. You gotta let me in bud, or I can't help you."

_'Just…' _I hesitated, lowering my hands to my lap as I searched for the words. How could I describe what I was feeling without him finding out?

"I want to help you, buddy. I really do," said Deathstroke. He half sat, half leant against the windowsill and looked me dead in the eyes. The silvery glow of the moon illuminating his face. "But I can't do that unless I know what's bothering you."

_'Thinking about them.' _It wasn't a total lie. I was thinking about my family. My older brother in particular. But I couldn't tell him about Dick. It wasn't safe. And I had no clue if the parents deal that kept him safe would honour, especially since they were dead, and I was gone. But it didn't make sense for them to take him. He wasn't trained. He wasn't designed for their life. He was too old to start from scratch, wasn't he? That's why I was here, wasn't it? Gods, I hope they don't turn on him. I had to make sure that he was okay, but how was that possible without Deathstroke finding out.

"The pain of losing them will never go away, not completely." Well, that was comforting. I looked out into the darkness, hoping that I could keep it under control. I couldn't lose it. Not in front of him. But when I tried to breathe something invisible was restricting my chest. I couldn't breathe. I felt like I was suffocating. _Why did they have to go? Why did it have to hurt? _

I flinched away when something touched my shoulder, snapping my head back towards Deathstroke in reflex. The hand hovering over my shoulder disappeared, concern visible on his usually stoic face. He stared at me for what felt like an eternity, his unreadable face returned as he seemed to finally collect his thoughts.

"But it does get easier to deal with." I felt my own eyes widen against my will. How could he say that? How could this _ever_ be okay? "And if you can learn to channel that pain and the anger: if you can control it, you don't have to let it destroy you. But you can't keep everything inside." A single finger curled under my chin and tilted my head upwards. Why was he being so nice?

"It will tear you apart."

My hands were moving before I even knew what I was saying. _'I miss them. It hurts so much just to think about them, but I can't stop. I don't wanna forget them.'_

"The only way to stop it from hurting so much, bud, is if you allow yourself to _feel_ it. You have to go through the storm to get to the other side. And I know it seems hard. There will be days when you think you can't take one more step. But you have to keep pushing, kid. This pain that you're feeling is what lets you know you're still alive, it's what tell you that you're still breathing. And once you get through the storm, everything will seem just a little light. But you have to push through. You have to keep going. You can't give up."

I felt like, even if I had wanted to speak, I wouldn't have been able to. I would have been too choked up to say anything. I knew his words were true but that didn't make it any easier.

_'And if I'm not strong enough?'_

"You lean on others," said Deathstroke, taking back his hand from my face. "I can teach you how to be strong. Then no one can hurt you ever again." I found myself nodding in agreement. I'd do anything to not have to feel this _ever again_.

One hundred and eight hours. Four and a half days. Five restless nights since _it _happened. Five nights since that awful, terrible, horrible moment. A moment in time that I would never – could never – forget. I could still hear their screams as they fell; my brother's desperate voice calling out to me; and the deafening, echoing sound of a ring in panic.

There were times where I felt the cold hand of fear grip my heart and I was brought back to the moment when my feet slipped off the platform. In that second, I knew what it meant to see your life flash behind your eyes. It was there where I saw my parents fall. It was wrong. It was all so wrong. Why were they _falling_? Why didn't they come back up? Why did they have to leave us? How could I do this on my own? I wasn't strong enough.

And when I close my eyes… every time I closed my eyes, I saw them. I would see my parents lying broken and bloody on the circus floor. I could see them. I can't stop seeing my Mamî's heartbroken eyes. Tatî was scared – terrified as he fell. I think he was afraid of what would happen to me and Dick more than how much it would hurt when he hit the ground. But Mamî? She wasn't scared. There was no trace of fear in her eyes. Only sorrow, regret and undying love. Even in her last moments left in this life, she held nothing but the deepest love for me and my brother.

The person my brother pulled back onto that platform was not the same innocent little girl that slipped off. My heart had been broken and my life; shattered. Would I always be haunted by the memory of my parent's murder?

The pencil I had been holding slipped from my grip, clattering onto the kitchen bench. I blinked a couple of times and stared at the pencil as it rolled slowly to a stop. Oh yeah, I was drawing. I picked my pencil back up with my left hand and pulled the book I had been sketching in closer.

I had drawn a robin perched on the branch of a tree. I hadn't even realised that I had drawn it. I never realised how much I relied on my brother until now. I had never spent so long away from my family before and my heart ached more than I could ever say.

But Dick was alive, and I missed him. But I couldn't go back. He was my older brother but he wouldn't understand. How could he? How could I explain that I could never see him again? Would he understand that everything I was doing was to protect him? Would he listen? Because if I didn't, they would get him too. And maybe they still would. I prayed to the gods that he wasn't taken. It was better for everyone if the world thought I was dead.

Deathstroke had come into the room when I was too deep in thought to notice. He didn't say anything to me, only collecting two bowls and spoons from their respected draws and filled them up with mince and pasta. After ninety seconds in the microwave, a bowel was slid across the bench to me. I tucked a second leg underneath myself and began eating with my right hand, continuing to sketch with the other.

I was absentmindedly drawing the rest of the tree for my robin to perch on and occasionally remembering eating. I allowed my mind to wander. _Why was I actually here anyways? Like, who was this man? Why was he helping me?_ What the heck was going on with my life? First _them, _then my parents, now this guy? What even is my life?

I freed both of my hands and tapped the bench twice. It was kind of hard to get someone's attention without talking if they weren't looking at you.

_'Who are you?' _I signed, and then on second thought added,_ 'and why am I here?'_

_'I'll tell you who I am when you tell me your name.' _Deathstroke bargained. I decided that I didn't need t know that badly… _yet. _I huffed playfully and slouched back in my seat. _Alright, _I thought. _If that's how it's gonna be: an eye for an eye._

"Then at least tell me how old you are," he said out loud. Deathstroke lent his arms against the bench, resting his chin on his hands.

_'You first,' _I signed. I doubted that he would tell me anything without me giving information in return, but it was worth a shot.

He raised his eyebrows challengingly. "Thirty-seven," said Deathstroke. A smug look appeared on his face. Apparently, I underestimated the man. _Dang-it_, now I actually had to reciprocate the act. Turned out he wanted to get the information out of me more than I did with him.

_'Now you,' _he signed.

_Darn it. _

I held up an open hand and continued to eat with the other. Deathstroke dipped his head in acknowledgement and held his hands in a 'there you go' kind of gesture.

"Well, you still need a name. I can't just keep calling you 'kid'."

I dropped my spoon again and looked up, _'why not?'_

"Cause it's not right," he said. "Look, if you really don't want to tell me who you are, that's fine. But at least give me a nickname or something I can call you."

I kind of felt bad for not telling him, he had saved my life, even if he didn't know it. I wanted to give him something. He was trying to help me – he really was. I thought about my name. Traditional and longer than necessary, maybe. But it was the way I had been raised. My mother was a Romani woman, and with that heritage came traditions. My name being one.

Skylaina Mary Grayson. It came from my mother's name, Mariam Elizabeth Grayson _n__é__e _Loyd. Skye meaning adventurous or free-spirited. Deathstroke wanted a name but it wasn't like I could just make up a new one, it wasn't right. It was disrespectful to my parents and just flat out wrong.

I thought about my name, S-K-Y-L-A-I-N-A. But, four letters, just four letters. That isn't disrespectful to the living or the dead. It was not a name that I had ever been called by my family, but it was still a part of my name. I signed four letters to the man across the bench.

_'K. Y. L. A.' _

_'Thank you, Kyla,' _he signed to me. "My name is Slade."


	8. Chapter 7 - One Step Forward

**Chapter 7 – One Step Forward**

**Slade Wilson P.O.V**

It wasn't much, but at least it was a start. Her age and her name. It wasn't like I didn't know who she was – it was all over the news – but her age had been absent from that information. The Haly's Circus had been in town and her outfit from the forest just screamed 'circus'.

Skye Grayson. That was the girl's real name. The missing person's report had been filed within the week with an outdated picture of the girl sitting in a tree. The police didn't seem too hopeful in finding her, they couldn't find a trace of where she had gone. Nor did the Gotham City police seem eager to look for her. She wasn't a resident of their city; within a few weeks, she'd be forgotten about. Just a runaway from the circus.

After searching through both American and Romanian records as well as circus files, I had managed to pool together a small file on the child. Skylaina Mariam Rossella Grayson, age five. Father: Jonathan Frederick Grayson, American. Mother: Mariam Elizabeth Grayson _née _Loyd, Romanian, Romani Gypsy. Brother: Richard Jonathan Soare Grayson, dual American/Romanian citizenship. Skylaina had an older brother, but his whereabouts were not yet public, or even official, so it was impossible to hack that information just yet.

Unfortunately, there was nothing else to go on Skylaina or her brother, date of birth or otherwise. They were born into a Gypsy community in a third world country, the only place the children officially exist is the Haly's Circus records, and now the Gotham City foster system. The official age of the children was a mystery.

What I couldn't understand was why she ran. She had a brother. Why leave? What was she running from? An internal circus matter maybe, be Skylaina seemed too young to have any knowledge or understanding over such things. She was five.

Maybe she didn't mean to run and had just let her feet carrier her because she was to upset, and rightfully so. But Kyla had seemed set on hiding (or maybe forgetting) who she was. If she had wanted to go back, she would have just told me her name straight up; she would have asked for help.

Which leads to the only plausible conclusion that Kyla had run from something… or someone. It could be the people responsible for her parents' murder, but that didn't feel right. They wouldn't bother to chase down a young kid unless there was a personal vendetta against the family rather than a usual job.

Unless of course, Kyla knew something, and the mob wanted to silence her. That would make sense.

Only a few holes in that theory. What did she know? And if she was in danger, what of her brother? Did they know she knew anything? How likely were they to hunt her down? And then there was her brother, Richard. I picked up a recent photo of the siblings. They were standing hand in hand facing away from the camera in an open field while watching the sunset.

I looked at another picture of Richard, a happy young face smiling brightly at the camera, a large circus tent in the background. His face looked familiar, but I knew that I had never met the boy or his parents before. _Ahh…_ his sister.

Skylaina and her brother looked startlingly similar. If you took a photo of the girl and of her brother from a year or two years ago and compared them side by side, you could easily mistake them for twins. Even more, if you cut out the hair difference, you could swear that they were the same child.

They looked _identical._

But even with the information I accumulated on my own, I still appreciated Kyla giving me her name and age. Kyla was obviously a nickname and I could understand why she had said it. Her name was a tie to her past. A constant reminder of what she had lost. Something that she wanted more than anything to forget. I had seen the incident on the news and even visited the scene myself.

_It was horrific._

No wonder she was screaming for her parents to come back every night. I wish I could help her but waking up anyone during a night-terror was dangerous. Unless she was in danger of harming herself, it was better to let it pass on its own. She would then settle down for another night of restless sleep. She shouldn't have been able to remember anything from the dreams, but I could tell just by her face that she remembered it every time she wakes.

The real question was if she knew what actually happened that night to cause her parents to fall. They were famous acrobats; the best in the world; they didn't _fall. _The GCPD told the news that it was a freak accident, but Kyla had hinted to murder and it made more sense.

This wouldn't have been the first time that a circus had gotten involved in things they should have steered well and truly clear of. Plus, when I investigated myself, I was sure it was sabotage. No way in hell had those bolts come loose on their own, yet I could only speculate as to who the culprit was. The circus didn't even have any security cameras installed that I could scan. Nothing. Maybe Skylaina knew something, but that was something I doubted she was ready to deal with. _Not yet._

So until then, I was stuck. A traumatised five-year-old in my care – what on earth was I doing? Surely, she would be better off with her brother. But when I saw her in the woods, I knew I couldn't leave her. I just couldn't. It was something in her eyes. The remnants of a fire burning in her soul. _A spark._

She had been on her own, on the run; when her life had only begun. What if this had been my sons? Would someone have taken them in? Would someone have looked after them and given them a home?

Yes, her parents were dead, but did she have any other family left? Or was she alone in the world? Was it fair for me to just take her? She was just a kid… Surely, she would end up in the foster system, and no one cares about kids in the system, especially not in Gotham.

More than a few innocent kids had ended up in Juvey from the lack of space. And the kids that often turned to the street. If he didn't take her in, she would most definitely be a ward of the state until she aged out of the system and be forced to turn to a life of crime to survive.

No, she was better off with me… _oh, shoot_, Adeline. What would she say about this?

I looked at Kyla and watched her eat for a moment longer, lifting her spoon above the bowl only to watch the food splosh back down. So innocent, yet in so much pain. I decided that I didn't care – damn the consequences. She needed someone.

"Kya?" I said her name to get her attention. She wouldn't understand what I was doing now. She was too young. But maybe when she was older, she would understand.

She stopped eating and looked up at me, blue eyes shining brightly with innocence and curiosity. I leant my arms against the bench and looked deep into her eyes. They were so extremely, completely blue. Captivating, almost. _Like gemstones._

"I know you don't know me, Kyla," I said to her, "but I want you to know that you are safe here; with me. And I will help you bring the people who murdered your parents to justice. I swear."

_'Why are you helping me?' _she signed, spoon still in-between her fingers. _'Why do you care?'_

"Because you are a child. You shouldn't have to face this world alone. And it's the right thing to do."

_'Thank you,'_ she signed. I only nodded my head. I had merely told her the truth. Besides, no five-year-old could survive out there on their own. The lucky ones die. The others joined gangs to survive or were forced into abusive situations and human trafficking. No. _No way_. Not if I could help it. She was better off with me.

"I hooked Netflix up to the TV," I told her. "Knock yourself out." At least that would keep her occupied for a couple of hours.

Kyla didn't seem to notice the grin on her face. She bolted for the couch, abandoning her bowel and sketchbook on the island bench. Instead of acting like a normal human being at this point, the kid front flipped over the backrest, landing in a sitting position on her knees.

It was then that I knew Kyla would be okay. Losing her parents hadn't destroyed her spirit. She was still a child at heart.

/-/-/-/-/

I closed the door to my bedroom, the faint sound of the TV muffled as I did so.

_God, I hope that woman doesn't kill me._

I pulled out my phone and selected my wife's contact. It only rung twice before I heard her voice answer the phone.

_"Slade? Is everything okay?"_

"Addie, it's good to hear your voice. And I'm okay. But my mission has changed." I ran a hand over my face as I contemplated how to tell Adeline about the situation.

"There has been a murder and I believe it is connected to the mob bosses in Gotham."

_"Mobsters?"_ she asked. I could hear the concern in her voice over the phone. _"I thought they were all in hiding? Scared of the shadows or something." _Of what was hiding in the shadows, more like. Namely a big bad bat.

"They were. But it appears that someone has crawled out of whatever dark hole they were hiding in. I have to follow this up, Addie."

There was a long pause before Addie spoke again. _"How long do you think this will take?"_

"I don't know. There have been complications. Namely a kid. Her parents were killed, and I think she may have been a target. I just don't know who yet. I've heard activity from two mob gangs, but I haven't figured out who was brave and foolish enough to act out."

_"A kid, Slade?"_

"A little girl, Kyla. I figured the safest place for her is with me until I can take out the people who are responsible for killing her family away for good."

_"What are you going to do with her?"_

"I don't know, Addie. I don't know…" I breathed deeply a few times before I continued. "What was I supposed to do? Take care of her until I can figure something else out? I don't think she has anyone else."

_"Whatever you decide Slade, I'm with you… just, don't be gone too long okay? Your boys miss you."_

"I know Addie, tell the boys I love them. We'll schedule a call soon."

_"I love you."_

"Love you too Addie, bye." I pressed end call and sunk down onto my bed, thoroughly confused. What was I doing? I had a family across the sea and instead of being home with my boys, I was here, with a five-year-old circus kid.

I knew that Kyla was better off with me, and there was no way I'd abandon her now. I had promised her, after all. No, I would see this through. I'd do right by here. She was just beginning to open up to me. I could help her. I would help her.

As of that moment, I promised myself that Skylaina Grayson would be my responsibility. I swore to her parents, despite them being long gone, that I would look after their baby girl. I'd take care of her. _As if she was my own._

/-/-/-/-/

NOTE: My main account I update this story and Rogue Shadow on is on Wattpad - tessabridger - If you would like to see more regular updates, I tend to update Wattpad as soon as I've written the chapter.


	9. Chapter 8 - Bufniţă

**Chapter 8 – Bufniţ****ă**

**Slade Wilson P.O.V **

When I came back into the living space Kyla was too engrossed in her movie to notice. I made my way over to the kitchen and cleaned up the mess left over from lunch. My eyes caught small white Cyrillic's flashing across the bottom of the television screen. I turned and stopped to study the subtitles. They were Russian. English definitely wasn't her first language then. I thought she was Romanian. Her complexion was a Russian, Middle Eastern complexion. Perhaps Russian was easier for her to understand than English.

The drawing in the sketch pad Ky had found lying around caught my eye. The robin in a tree she had been working on before lunch on one page, and on the other side, which had been folded under the back of the book when I last looked, had a childlike sketch of a small person collapsed to the ground, a dark figure leaning over them. There were words scrawled around the page like thoughts of conversation, but it was written in a language I didn't know. Presumably Romanian, as it was her native language, but I truly had no clue, it was not a language I recognised, at all.

That could prove to be a problem. while she seemed to understand English well enough, her native language would be forgotten by a child at her age if it wasn't used. Maybe it was time to learn Romanian.

I folded my arms across my chest and leant against the back counter as I watched the five-year-old. Her feet had slipped out from under her and she had curled up into the corner of the couch. Ky was resting her chin on her knees with her arms hugging her legs to her chest.

What was I going to do with her?

I couldn't just let her spend every day watching TV. Until I moved back to a more permanent base there was not a whole lot that I could do in regards to training her. Kya needed to be able to defend herself. But what could I fill her time with? She was used to spending all day running around a circus – the kid would go stir-crazy. And she was barely old enough to be in school, not like she could attend without being in danger anyway.

At her age, she should have been starting school in January by Australian standards. Four turning five at the beginning of the year or five turning six in the second half. And that was assuming that Kya had recently turned five. She looked too small to be much older. Her mother had probably planned on home-schooling Kya: her brother had most likely been taught by their mother or father already.

But for the sake of entertainment, it couldn't hurt to start her education a bit earlier, if not just to fill in the hours. Also, I had absolutely no clue how long she'd be in danger for. It would probably be too dangerous for her to start school in just three months, not could I be with her the entire time.

Good God, what did I get myself into? I figured it wouldn't be a problem to open up the training room for Kya to use up her extra energy in. This was turning into a mess. At Kyla's age, a child needed stability, and… well fun. There was no other way to put it. My own boys proved that much to me. Kya was a kid and her entire life had just been uprooted. If anything she needed someone her age.

I looked back at the little girl curled up on my couch. She was watching some historical kids show. Horrible Histories. She was smiling in silent laughter or making faces at disgusting facts. At least she seemed to enjoy learning. I knew the show. It was almost always being played back home. Maybe schooling her would be a good idea after all. Perhaps it would even distract Kya enough to let her get through the night without screaming.

Every single night I would hear that kid screaming or struggling in her bed. Not that I minded. It came with being a father. And then since the accident three years prior, I had become somewhat of an insomniac, so the lack of sleep was never a problem. At least the kid didn't wake up most of the time.

_Small miracles. _

Kyla was similar to Joey; all I had to do was rest my hand on her shoulder and the bad dreams would disappear. Children are such strange creatures. The nights I had to hold Ky down to stop her from her hurting herself were less than pleasant. She seldom went back to sleep after that.

Kya had – thankfully – began feeling more comfortable and was more willing to "talk". I didn't know children knew how to gamble until I met that little five-year-old. Whenever I asked her a question, I had to also give an answer, or answer a question of her own, otherwise, she wouldn't talk.

This kid… I couldn't just bring her back to my home and I could not leave her here. she had to be protected. Her parents weren't high profile enough to warrant an assassination and it was unlikely that they got into this mess on their own. The only reason she was in danger was if there was something bigger going on. Her parents' murder was too coincidental and difficult a target. A random mobster would have found an easier target. This kid knew more than she was saying and there was no trail to follow.

* * *

_'What am I actually doing here?' _Kya signed suddenly. She entered the room, but instead of taking her usual seat at the island bench, the kid came right up to me, barely half my height. She had already started signing a question by the time I turned to face her.

"Good morning to you too," I said. I grabbed her plate off the counter and placed it into her open hands. She did this huff and _almost _looked like she wanted to stomp her foot.

This was a new development. I hoped this new development of… _whatever_ meant that Kyla was starting to come out of her shell and be more willing to open up. But however much she wanted answers, Kya had recently discovered that nothing would be discussed before breakfast and she quickly dug in. Kyla was a quick learner and smart too. She knew when to pick her battles.

I lent my elbows on the bench, resting my chin on my hands. This kid was something else. "I will tell you why you're here, if – and only if – you tell me exactly what you were doing in that forest and why you were there." The kid froze. Her eyes lost focus. Her face fell and any trace of happiness disappeared.

I had a feeling that if the kid was a little older, you could have seen a range of emotions flash across her face, but at five years old her brain did not have the capacity to express how she was feeling, nor would she even be able to understand what they meant.

Instead, Kyla just looked like a lost puppy who had just been kicked and then offered a bone. She seemed to teeter on a wire between sad and angry. I let her mull over the deal, turning away to make some coffee. I leant against the opposite counter, mug in hand, observing her. She looked lost inside her own mind.

Kyla was more likely to be thinking about the night itself, rather than whether or not to tell me about it. Kya knew that if she told me, I would tell her what she wanted to know. So trusting that I would keep my word wasn't the problem. The issue was if she felt safe enough to tell me what had frightened her enough to make her run away in the first place.

When her plate was finished, I swapped it out for a mug of hot milo. Her hands wrapped around it and she began sipping it absently. The kid loved that stuff.

_'I ran… my parents… th-' _Kya stuffed up on of her signs from her hands shaking too much. She dropped her hands, took a deep breath and tried again. _'They killed them. I was scared. They were going to take me. And my… not safe… wasn't safe.'_

"Kya, bud. Who wasn't safe? What happened?" I moved around the bench, so I was next to her. _What has she gone through? _She didn't make an attempt to move, just stared down at her mug and lifted her hands once more.

_'The deal. The deal was broken. He wouldn't have let me go. They would have taken him. I had to run.'_

"Buddy, listen to me." I spun her stool around, pulling gently on her arm until she was facing me. "Look at me." She wasn't really listening, I don't know if she even heard me, so I tilted her face towards me and continued. "I need you to calm down and explain to me as clearly as you can – if you can – who was trying to get to you and why you ran away."

Her eyes were watering, and her bottom lip trembling. She was holding back tears. I didn't think she'd be able to sign as clearly as she did. For such a young child, Ky sure had a lot of grit.

_'Brother. My brother wouldn't have let me go and they would have taken him too. But if I ran, then they would come after me and leave him alone and he would be safe.'_

I reached out for her shoulders and shook her arms lightly. I needed to know who was trying to kill her.

"Who's after you, Kya?"

_'They… I knew they would look for me over him. I've run away before. When Brother was six, just to see. But they didn't want him. They came after me! They made me go back… he found me.'_

"Who? Who are they, Kya? Who found you?" She was getting lost in her memories. I don't even think she was aware of me or anything else around her.

_'Hadrian. He took me home.'_

"And why did you run away? Why'd you run away from home, Ky?" What could have been so bad that a tot would run away?

_'I couldn't do it. I don't want to go. Not with them. They killed Mother and Father.'_

"Do you know who killed your parents?"

_'Yeah. Tony Zucco. But they made it happen! This is all my fault.' _Kya's hands dropped to her lap; her eyes moved to a spot on the floor.

I cupped both sides of her face, tilting her head so that she had to meet my gaze. Her eyes were turning red from the strain of holding back her tears.

"Buddy, none of this is your fault. Do you hear me? None of it."

_'But it is. If I didn't go to Mother, then she wouldn't have told them that I was gonna stay and they wouldn't have needed to kill my parents.'_

"Kya, _who _was going to take you? Why were your parents going to let them?"

_'The birds. The night birds.' _Night birds? She wouldn't have been talking about the bat, but maybe she did not know the sign for what she wanted to say. Did she not know the word? Perhaps it was something she had not learnt in English.

Kya signed out a series of letters. _B__-__U__-__F__-__N__-__I__-__T__-__A__. _Maybe _bufnita _was the Romanian word for 'night bird' or whatever it was she tried to say.

_'The ones that watch from the shadows. And if you speak their name… they will send a Talon for your head.'_


	10. Chapter 9 - Talons

**Chapter 9 – Talons**

**Slade Wilson P.O.V**

_Talons? _Was she talking about the rhyme?

_Beware the Court of Owls, that watches all the time, ruling Gotham from a shadowed perch, behind granite and lime. They watch you at your hearth, they watch you in your bed. Take care, beware, speak not a whispered word of them, or they'll send, The Talon for your head._

How were Kya's parents – her _acrobat_ parents – mixed up with the Court of Owls? But the Haly's Circus… if you searched further enough backwards a pattern emerged where one child every few generations would disappear. A boy had gone missing forty-odd years ago, and a decade later, the new Talon had emerged. The circus was where they got their head talon each year. The rest of their soldiers were from anywhere, taken at any age.

But _the_ _Talon_, he was always specially chosen. Trained from infancy. Was Kya the next Talon to be trained? That's what the 'deal' had been about?

_Her parents had given her up as tribute!_

And when they showed resistance, they were eliminated. And when she said that they didn't want her brother, it was because they had already begun training Kya. But if her brother tried to protect his little sister from being taken, just like any older brother would, the Court would have just taken him as well to become a mindless soldier.

To think that if I had not have been there, Kyla would be their slave by now. And now that her brother was a ward of the state, the Court wouldn't risk taking him.

"The Court of Owls," I said in a low murmur as I looked at her. The horrors she must have been through. "That's who you're running from." Her eyes widened; first in shock, but then the fear set in. She was afraid to even speak their name. Treated it like a taboo. A real-life Voldemort. Just like the rhyme said; _speak not a whispered word of them._

"Kyla. You are safe. Richard has been fostered by a very well know man. They won't dare touch him. And to the world you are dead. They won't find you here. You're safe."

Her hair bounced when she jumped off the stool. She shook her head once and tried to duck around me.

"Hey – hey – hey! Where're you going?" I called after her as she tried to escape, latching onto her arm and pulling her back around to face me.

_'They always come! They always find me!' _I leant down to her height, holding onto her other arm as well.

"Not this time." Her eyes lifted and met my own, the fear being overshadowed by confusion. She didn't understand.

"Ky, they are not going to take you away from me. I won't let them." I spoke slowly and deliberately, making sure she understood just how serious I was. "I promise you kiddo, I will protect you. They won't get you; I swear."

I could see the walls she'd built up around her cracking as her fear and worry vanished. She jumped out of my hold and the mass of jet-black hair obscured my vision. I felt her two little arms slide around my waist and cling on to the fabric of my shirt.

_She was hugging me._

I straightened up, dropping a hand to her back just as I felt her move to pull away. I began to rub slow circles on her back.

"You don't have to be scared anymore, bud. I'm gonna keep you safe. I promise." The kid went almost limp in my arms. Every muscle in her body relaxed in an instant. I lifted my free hand and rested it on her head.

I just held her close, knowing that, more than anything at that moment, she just needed to feel safe. She seemed content to stay as she was, and I had no intention of making her pull away.

After a few minutes, I felt her legs give out slightly and her grip on my shirt began to loosen.

"Ky?"

I got nothing but a half-hearted hum in response. She was about to fall asleep.

"Come on, kid," I said, bending down to readjust my grip on her. I shipped both my hands down so my arms curled behind her legs and around her back. I stood back up, bringing the drowsy child up with me.

She didn't stir.

Her head rested against my shoulder and I had to shift my hand on her legs to support her seat.

She was_ so small._

And she was also being hunted by one of the deadliest cults in existence, the Court of Owls.

She didn't deserve any of this. Kya was barely five years old – she hadn't even lived, and she'd already lost so much; already faced a lifetime of pain. She needed a home. She needed a _family_.

I cleared those thoughts from my head. _No, _that could never be. I took Kya to the room she'd been staying in and pulled her bed covers back with one hand, keeping the other firmly pressed against her back. I half knelt on the bed as I deposited the sleeping child on the mattress. I debated with myself if I bothered to change her into pyjamas, but I figured that would just wake her up. She was only in trackies and a Tee, she'd be fine.

Just as I pulled the covers up, Kya began to stir. Her eyes fluttered open and I could see the confusion and fear begin to trickle into her eyes. I dropped the blanket on her legs and rested a hand on her shoulder. Her gaze snapped up to meet mine despite the darkness.

"Kya, it's just me. It's Slade. You fell asleep. It's late. Go back to bed, hon. You're okay. You're safe. Just go to sleep." And just like that, her eyelids fell closed and she rolled over, immediately fast asleep.

"Sweet dreams, kid."

And for the first time in a week, Kyla managed to make it through the night without waking from a nightmare.

**1017**


	11. Chapter 10 - What Could Never Be

**Chapter 10 – What Could Never Be**

**Slade Wilson P.O.V**

_'Slade, it sounds like you already know what you need to do,'_ the aging voice said through the phone.

'But do you think it's the right thing to do? For her? I mean-'

He cut me off, _'Boy, just listen to yourself. Assassins are trying to either find or kill Skylaina. And you want to do everything in your power to protect her, yes?'_

'Of course I am Billy, you know that.' I couldn't get another word in before the old man started talking again.

_'The best thing you can do for that kid, Slay, is be there for her. I know you'll make the right call.'_

'Thanks for the vote of confidence old man.'

_'Anytime, my boy.'_

I went to hang up, but I heard his voice calling out again, so I lifted the phone back up to my ear.

_'Oh, and Slade?'_

'Still here.'

_'Talk to her,' _he said. _'See if you can find out what they've done to her, yeah?'_

'I'll do my best.'

_'I know you will.' _There was a binary beep and I knew the line was dead.

I smiled to myself as I slipped my phone into my pocket. William Wintergreen was a strange man. And never one to shy away from giving advice, whether I asked for it or not. But his heart was in the right place and I don't know where I'd be without him. He's a good man and a loyal friend.

I left my room, pushing open the door to Kya's room the rest of the way. I almost always left it open so I could hear her inevitable screams from the terrors that plagued her dreams.

'Kya, hon, you need to wake up. It's time for breakfast.' I shook her awake. Her bright blue eyes opened. She looked at me for a brief moment before rolling away.

'Nope, not happening. Not today.' I grabbed her around the waist and hauled her over my shoulder, letting her arms dangle behind my back. I started to leave the room but heard something slither softly to the floor. Looking behind me, I saw the blanket from her bed trailing after us, held tight in her fist. I shook my head in amusement but kept on walking.

Entering the kitchen, I lifted her off my shoulder and deposited her on the island bench. She glared at me grumpily, her lips forming into a small pout. This kid was too cute for her own good. I reached for the blanked still grasped in her hands and wrapped it around her shoulders like a cape, dropping my hands to the bench.

'Morning,' I said. Her frown deepened. _Hmm,_ how to change that?

'Pancakes?' I asked, removing my hands from the bench either side of her. The scowl instantly disappeared, an eager light entering her eyes, a cheeky grin creeping onto her face.

_What I wouldn't do to keep it there._

**Kyla P.O.V**

'They trained you to fight… didn't they?'

How did he know? He seemed to know everything about me. He even knew about Dickie. How did he know about _Frate?_

But he said Dickie was safe. They couldn't get him. He was _safe_.

I nodded in response, pulling my knees to my chest, feet resting on the edge of the chair. If he was really safe, nothing else mattered anymore.

'You know what they were going to do to you. You always knew.' I glanced up through my messy hair. It really needed a brush. Or maybe I could just hack it all off… no, Mamî would probably come back from the Æther to berate me for 'disrespecting tradition' or what not.

I blinked and saw his eyes staring straight into mine. Why was he looking at me like that?

'Didn't you?' he asked. _Oh yeah, _we were talking about Dickie – or rather he was talking. I was kinda sitting there nodding along. Same difference.

I nodded once more, feeling a burning, prickling sensation behind my eyes. Of course, I knew. How could I not know what my folks were planning? I dropped my head and rested my chin on my knees.

'And that's why you ran.' I nodded again, blinking back tears. He was gonna figure it out sooner or later anyway. And Dick was safe, so it was okay now.

'You ran away because you knew they would take you. And because you were trying to protect your brother.'

I started chewing on my bottom lip. I hadn't thought about Dick much since that night. Did that make me a bad Soră? How could I forget about him? I'd see him at night in my dreams but then I'd wake up and everything just goes away.

It just… it felt _good_ to be free from that… from everything.

I didn't have to be the perfect daughter that no one wanted. I didn't have to pretend that everything was okay. I didn't have to lie to my brother every time I looked him in the eye.

_It didn't hurt anymore._

_'They didn't want me.'_ I dropped my hands after the last word.

What if he doesn't want me either? What if he decides that I'm worthless? What happens to me when he finds out why my parents didn't love me? Why did I tell him that?

'What do you mean, Ky?' he asked. 'Who didn't want you?'

I tapped three fingers onto my palm, then my first two fingers onto the same two on my other hand. The letters for M and F. Mother and Father.

_'My parents.'_

'Kid, what are you talking about?'

_'My parents had me, so they didn't have to lose my brother.' _I knew the reasons. But that didn't make it any less painful… they chose _him_ over me. Why couldn't they just love me like the did Dick?

'They gave you up?'

I could only nod in response. I wanted to cry. I wanted to _scream_. _They had given me up_. I was _nothing _to them. Nothing, but a bargaining chip, to spare their son's life.

But it was _still _my fault. _All my fault. _If I hadn't said anything, then none of this would have ever happened.

I didn't deserve to scream. I didn't deserve to _cry_ for them. Because it was my fault. I didn't deserve to mourn the people I _killed_. I had a voice, and because I spoke up, my parents were killed. I had a voice, and even though I saw someone tampering with the wires, I said _nothing_. I chose silence and they _died_ because of _my decision_.

When I don't speak, bad things happened. And when I do, people die. I didn't deserve to be able to talk if all it did was hurt people. And even when I had a voice, I didn't use it. And my bother lost his parents because of _me_.

_Everything was my fault. _

_All my fault._

'They trained you…' Slade was looking at me, sadness in his eyes. 'Didn't they?' There was something in his voice; the soft, calming way he spoke to me. The kindness in his eyes. They way they shone with emotions. I knew he wasn't bad. Slade was kind. He didn't hurt me. He didn't lie. He was nice.

And he knew _everything. _

I could see it in his eyes, the way he looked at me, he knew it all. There was no point in hiding it. My secret was out. The secret that not even my brother knew. _All the lies and deception. _Dick knew nothing. He couldn't.

There was something in how he stood, the way he held me, the way he spoke to me… I'd never seen someone look at me like that before. It was the way Tatî looked at Dickie. The way he'd never looked at me. It reminded me of the glint in Dick's eyes when he was determined to land a trick. Like he'd never give up. And his words were kind and his actions were gentle. The same type of compassion Mamî always showed Dick… something she'd always been afraid to show me. With Slade, I didn't even have to sign for him to know what I wanted to say or how I was feeling. Somehow this person understood me better than my parents ever did. I'd never felt so safe, and so _at peace_, in my entire life.

My heart told me to trust him. I knew that Slade or Deathstroke or _whoever he is_, I knew that he was good.

_'In the circus, there was this man…' _I didn't know the sign for the next word, so I spelt it out instead. _'A T-A-L-O-N. He was there since I was one year old. He would train me every day. Not many people knew why. He was named my Godfather. No one questioned why he was always taking me away. My parents and Pop Haley were the only ones who knew who – what – he was.'_

'A Talon lived in the Circus with you?'

I nodded while trying to remember a sign. It was the sign for _disguised_. I just held my hand up mid-sign until it came to me.

_'They didn't know I knew about it. The fighting was disguised as circus training. Knife throwing and martial arts and sword fighting. That was his act.'_ I signed. _'It was just pretend.'_

'What about your brother?'

_'He couldn't know. I practised with him and our parents. We would fly. But he was told to do other things when I went with Hadrian. He did tightropes.'_

'Even back then, they were preparing you to be the next Talon,' he mumbled, more to himself than to me. Slade sat still. He was thinking. He looked worried. Why was he worried? What did I do wrong?

Now he knew about me, was he gonna send me away? He'll call me a murderer – he'll know it was me. He'll know it was my fault – my fault they're dead! What if he gives me back to them, to _him?_

I shouldn't have run; I should have just stayed put. I shouldn't have ever said anything. I should have just gone away with Hadrian. _Why, oh why, did I run away?_

Why was it so hard to breathe all the sudden? What was happening? Why couldn't I breathe?! I looked down at my hands shaking on my legs – what was happening to me? There was so much noise – it was _so loud. _

I squeezed my eyes shut and begged for the yelling to go away.

Something heavy landed on my head and I jumped in my seat. My legs slipped off the chair and the weight shifted from my head to my back, pressing against it. I glanced to the side and saw Slade's face next to my own. I slouched into his hand – it was only him. His hand was pressed firmly against my back, the other one was tracing patterns against my leg.

I lowered my eyes to watch his finger, focusing on the sensation it left behind. I was thankful for his hand, otherwise, I would have fallen. I hated falling. I hated watching other people fall even more. I should have fallen. I should have fallen with _them. __Why'd they have to fall? They were made to fly… _

His hands didn't hurt like they should have. Why wasn't he cross with me? Didn't he know what I'd done? Didn't Slade know I killed my parents? Why…Why?

I left a large finger curl underneath my chin and he slowly forced me to lift my head. His lips were pursed in a thin line and his eyes were looking at me in concern. _Why was he worried about me? _

'Kyla?' he asked. His tone was steady instead of mad. He should have been mad. _Why wasn't he mad? _

'Are you okay, Kya?' I found myself nodding withing his hold, although I wasn't sure why. _No, I wasn't okay! Everyone was gone and it was all my fault._

'I'm sorry kid,' he said, 'but they are never gonna stop looking for you. And you need to be able to defend yourself.' Both his hands then rested on my shoulders, and when I looked at Slade's eyes, he was sad. Some sort of struggle inside his eyes. He looked like he had done something he didn't want to and like he was hurting.

_What had he done? _I wondered. _Why was Slade sad?_

'I don't want to force you to become a soldier, Kya. But I have to teach you how to fight.'


	12. Chapter 11 - The Forgotten

**Chapter 11 – The Forgotten**

**Dick Grayson P.O.V**

Where was she? Soră.

Skye just disappeared. People don't just _disappear_ like that. The police were gonna take me away but then this man, Bruce Wayne, came up to me. He was the special guest that night. He said he could help me. I remember screaming for Skye, but she didn't come back. We made it to the bottom of the ladder and were instantly surrounded by our circus family. They were waiting for us at the bottom. Mr Haly pulled me away from their bodies – it wasn't fair. Why did they have to die?

I didn't even notice Skyla was missing until Mr Wayne started talking to me. How could I not realise she was missing? I'm a horrible Frate. I was supposed to protect her, but I lost her. I failed…

I wanted to run after her, but Mr Wayne stopped me. He said it wasn't safe. He told me that they'd find her – so why haven't they found her yet? It's been weeks!

Bruce sat me down and told me that she just vanished. That the police think she ran into the forest and never left. They couldn't find a single trace of her anywhere. But I don't understand that. People _can't _just _vanish_ off the face of the earth.

I was sitting in my new room at the ginormous window seat, staring out at the grey drizzle of rain over the foreign city. I wasn't allowed to stay with the Circus anymore. With Mamî and Tatî gone Mr Haly said it wasn't safe. He said that Mr Wayne would take good care of me.

But Bruce wasn't around much. He was always working and going to meetings. It was kind of lonely. His butler, Alfred Pennyworth, was nice and all, but not exactly 'company.'

I really missed my sister. Where was she? I thought she was beside me, but then I turned, and she was gone. Sometimes, at night, I think I hear her voice, calling out to me. But then I open my eyes and know it was just a dream. I hope more than anything she's still okay.

She was lost, but maybe I'd find her again. Was she alone? Was she afraid? Was she looking for a way back home? Why did she have to go? Why couldn't we stay together?

Watching Mamî and Tatî fall… it felt like I'd died inside. It wasn't fair. And then _Cer, _my best friend, just gone. How could I lose her? She was a part of me. I feel like I've lost who I am. Why do I feel like my heart has been broken? It feels like the end. Bruce kept telling me they'd find her, but I knew it was a lie.

Still, I'll keep waiting for her. I'll wait every night until I see her again. And I pray to the Gods that They'll protect her. I can't live without her by my side. And if Bruce would let me go, I would run – I wouldn't stop 'till I found her. I'll never stop looking for her.

And the man who killed our parents. _Tony Zucco. _I'll make him pay. I swear he'll pay.

I've lost everything, but I know _Cer _is alive out there somewhere. She has to be. Gods, I hope she finds her way back home.

'Where are you _Cer_? I need you.'

**Kyla P.O.V**

Slade was a great teacher. He wasn't mean like Hadrian. He was gentle and funny, and he never made me do anything I didn't want to. He was teaching me how to use my acrobatics in a fight.

Hadrian taught me Kung Fu, but only the fighting part. Slade showed me everything. Techniques and forms and weapons and self-defence. Slade told me that he would teach me everything he could. Brazilian Jujutsu and Tae Kwon Do were the other two martial arts he wanted me to learn first. He said that they were both useful in real life fighting. Especially because I was so small, he said I'd be able to fight people three times bigger than me. He kept me practising with shuriken, which were super close to my old throwing knives. And he showed me how to throw a knife to stun someone, by whacking them with the hilt instead of the blade. That was really cool. It makes this funny _wathunk _sound when it hits the board. Hadrian only ever showed me how to stab people. But all the targets Slade had me practise on were circular instead of human shaped.

Apparently, you're not meant to aim at the coloured rings to make a circle with the ninja stars, and just hit the centre, but that was boring, so I always try to make shapes out of the shuriken. Slade's really nice. He didn't get mad at me or anything for doing that, he just laughed at me and said I was strange. That kinda confuzzled me at first, cause of how Hadrian used to get all mad and strict on me for messing around in training. But I think Slade's different. He's really funny and doesn't get cross with me when I stuff up or can't do something. He doesn't even hit me or anything either. Hadrian and Tatî would usually slap me if I misbehaved. Slade just says I'm silly and shakes his head at me. The other day I was hanging upside down from the roof and he smiled at me.

It's funny, he doesn't seem to be the type of person to smile or laugh or be kind, especially when he put that orange and black suit back on after dinner one night. He told me he had a job, and that he would be back soon. At first, I thought he was abandoning me, but then I remembered that I was still in his home and that made no sense. Slade didn't put the mask on until he walked outside, but it was still really strange seeing him in that again. I'd only seen him in it once before and that wasn't a night I wanted to remember. There were so many weapons attached to his armour. He wouldn't tell me what he was doing but he promised he'd be back before I woke up.

I tried to fall sleep like he said to, but I just couldn't. Too many bad thoughts. What if he got hurt? What if something really bad happened to him? What if _they_ found him? What if they found out that I was _with_ him? What would they do to me if they found me? What would happen to Slade if they found out Slade had helped me?

I didn't want to think about that. I was safe. Slade had promised. And he had promised that he was more than able to take care of himself, so he'd be safe as well. Nothing bad was gonna happen.

In the end, I pulled my blanked around my shoulders like a cape and curled up on the couch. I hoped he wouldn't be mad at me for disobeying him. He had said to go to bed, but I just couldn't. Maybe I could wait up for him? Monsters Inc was on TV and I watched that for a little while, but I think I fell asleep halfway through. I don't remember how I ended up in my bed the next morning, I don't sleepwalk, so Slade probably carried me. At least he wasn't cross with me. He never said anything about it, so I guess he didn't really mind.

Slade had to help me with my hair yesterday. It was in this super massive knot and I couldn't brush it out. It took ten minutes and a bowl of cereal. I never thought a man could do hair, but Slade braided mine… that really confused me. Tatî had never been able to do mine or Mamî's hair. I thought that was normal. Boys can't do girls' hair. But Slade was really good. I wonder who taught him…

He'd speak to me in Russian sometimes. I didn't know Russian Sign, but it was still so cool that we knew the same language. I don't know how he knew I can understand Russian, because I never told him. Slade found out that I can speak and write in Japanese during a training session – that was my fault. He was showing me how to land safely after falling or jumping from really high up. Of course he didn't make me start practising from up high. Slade had these really cool foam mats in the training room. We laid them out all over the floor and they were super squishy. I got distracted doing flips on them and Slade had to catch me mid flip to get me to stop and pay attention. I actually expected him to hit me, I wasn't listening to him after all. But he just lent down and stared at me. He held onto my arms as he explained the exercise to get me to stop fidgeting.

We were doing this thing he called a commando roll. I started on the ground and slowly started from higher up. I was about a meter high, and I did a flip before a landed cause I was bored. I think he thought I was about to hit my head on the ground. It scared him so bad. He said a bad word in Japanese and I started giggling at him. He looked so confused. He asked me if I could speak Japanese _in Japanese. _I nodded at him. I almost responded in Japanese, _almost. _I almost spoke to him. But I bit down on my lip to make sure I didn't. I wasn't supposed to speak anymore. I told myself I'd never speak again. I promised.

So now he swaps from English to Russian to Japanese to Sign and back in a single day and it was really confusing at first, but I kinda got used to it.

He taught me how to something really crazy today. Slade showed me how to throw a shuriken _mid flip._ Cause he saw me doing flips and thought it would be handy. And it is super-duper hard. I struggled just to hit the target. No more fancy board patterns, I'm just trying to get the blade to _hit_ the damn thing.

Slade was standing off to the side, giving me tips and correcting my form each time. I was getting frustrated cause I kept missing the board and that's when he decided to half drag me to the kitchen. He said I was "hangry", I didn't know what that meant. I had to ask. It's another hybrid word, hungry and angry smooshed together. It's when you get angry at something but it's actually because you're hungry.

English is really weird. I feel like words are just made up whenever there isn't a single word to describe something. Like smooshed. It's not even a real word. Well… it is but it isn't. It's a triple combination of mashed, smashed, and smeared. I don't really know how that works or where _smooshed _came from, but I love it. Only problem is it doesn't exist in Auslan. Which sucks.

I really wanna ask Slade to teach me how to use his Katanas, but I feel like it's a no. Those things are almost as tall as I am. But sword fighting looks so cool. I wonder if he'll ever teach me. Then I could be like Robin Hood. Or the Musketeers.

"Kya!"

I turned to look at him. What? I looked down and realised I'd left my half-eaten sandwich on my plate. Oh. Whops.

"You zoned out on me, Ky. Everything okay?"

I nodded, picking up me food and eating with renewed enthusiasm. Food was good.

I thought about Slade's question. Was I okay? I had food, a place to live. Lots of fun living with Slade and I got to train with the man every day.

Yeah. Everything was perfect.


	13. Chapter 12 - Brothers in Arms

**Chapter 12 – Brothers in Arms **

**Adeline Wilson P.O.V**

It had only been a few days since I last spoke with Slade, but I still didn't know what to think. I'd promised to support whatever he chose to do, and I would stand by that, but I still worried. Monsters? Murders? And a little girl, Kyla he had called her. He thought she had been the target of her parent's murder. If that was the case, it's a miracle she's still alive.

I knew the girl would be safe with my husband, he wouldn't let any harm come to her, but why would Monsters be interested in a little girl? And she had no one left. Where would she go when all this was over?

I was halfway through washing up lunch when my thoughts were interrupted by my oldest son running into the kitchen, my phone held up to his ear.

'Mum, Dad's on the phone,' he said, holding it out for me to take.

'Okay.' I pulled my hands out of the soapy water. 'Can you get me a towel sweetie?'

'Bye, dad.'

I dried my hands and took the phone from his hands. I heard my husband's voice coming through the phone.

_'Talk to you later, Grant.'_

'Slade? What's happening? Are you okay?'

_'Course Addie. I promised you I'd call soon.'_

'Have you spoken to William recently?'

_'Yeah, I called him the other day.'_

'Good. He came around last week. Slade, he sounded worried about you.'

_'It's just about Kyla. So much has happened to her. Rememb–'_

'DADDY!' My seven-year-old came running into the kitchen screaming. 'Mummy, can I talk to daddy? Please, please, please!'

I held a finger up to his lips, silencing him. I dropped my hand to his head and ran my fingers through his hair.

'Joey wants to talk to you, honey. Talk to me about her after.'

_'Hey buddy…' _I heard his voice grow quieter as Joey walked away.

He was so worried about that girl. He was supposed to just be on an intel mission for his boss. But then everything had changed when the mobs came out of hiding and a girl's parents were killed. She had no one else and people were potentially trying to kill her. And of course, Slade had taken it upon himself to protect her.

I couldn't be mad at him. It was one of the reasons why I loved him. He always did what he thought was right. Even if that means disobeying a direct order. That was how he and William had become such close friends.

But what was he going to do with her? How long would this mission take? Christmas was coming soon, and it was starting to look like this mission would be a long one. It wouldn't be the first time he'd miss important events. I knew it wasn't his fault, all those years ago especially. Accidents happened – I knew that better than most. All those fights and the battles we lost.

But Slade had a tendency to get himself into problems and I worried that this would be a big one. It wasn't fair for me to pin this on him. He was just doing his job. Sometimes I just wished that our jobs didn't take us so far away.

Joey ran back into the room, arm outstretched, his little feet padding loudly against the wooden floors.

'Mummy.' I took my phone back.

'Thank you, Joey. Now go clean your room please.'

'Okay!' he said, turning away and skipping off. I shook my head, chuckling softly at my son's antics as I brought the phone up.

'I'm here, love. The boys are in their rooms. What did you need to tell me?

_'Kya. I found out who killed her parents. Remember that old nursery rhyme? Beware the Court of Owls?'_

'A little. What about them?'

_'Well, turns out they are a secret society running underground Gotham and – to my guess – America. Their warrior, the Talon, is someone they train from birth. It's real. I mean, I had my suspicions, but there was never any proof.'_

No… 'You don't seriously think that Kya is their next… Talon… do you?'

_'I wish I was wrong. She told me herself. A Talon, who had been watching over her since she was born probably. He'd been training her every day within the Haly's Circus. And then they organised the death of her parents.'_

'Oh my God… but she's safe now, yeah?'

_'She's smart. Kid ran away right after it happened. Kya ran away from her home because she knew they were coming for her. They're not gonna find her here. She'll be okay.'_

'Wait – she saw them _die_? Is she okay? How old is she?'

_'She was there. She watched them fall. Her nightmares are becoming less frequent already. Just five years old, Addie. She's still a tot.'_

I walked out onto the deck, just listening to the silence across the call. Slade sighed and could hear the strain in his voice.

'What are you going to do with her, Slade?' I rested my arms against the railing, looking out over our back yard.

_'I have to protect her, Adeline. The Court will take her as soon as she appears in the system. There's no one else. I can't give her back to the circus. They gave her up.'_

'What will you do with her then? Surely she'll be bored out her mind in the Gotham base.'

_'I've been training her. I don't want to force this on her, but she has to be prepared.' _

_'Yeah, that's what I figured. And she seems to enjoy it, so that's something I guess.'_

'So you'll probably still be there over Christmas then, yeah?'

_'I'm sorry Addie. I'll see if I can sort something out, but I can't make any promises.'_

'I know love. Just do your best. And don't worry about us. Billy's looking out for us. You just keep her safe, Slade. We'll be okay. Kyla needs you more than we do right now. You just focus on helping that little girl.'

_'Thank you, Addie. I'm still gonna try get home soon.'_

'What about Kyla?'

_'I'll need Thals' help with her soon enough anyway. I want T and Ra's to know about Ky so they can give her extra protection. In case the Owls decide to start a war, I need to know someone else will help her.'_

'Good luck Slade. And say hi to Thalia for me.'

* * *

**Slade Wilson P.O.V**

_'You seem like you've done this before… taught someone I mean.' _Kya sat on the training floor opposite me, doing a light stretch after training. She was signing sideways from her stretch, but I understood her words just fine.

'I have.' This kid noticed everything. I don't know where she picked it up, but she was very adept at observing situations and reading people. How had she known she wasn't the first person I had trained before?

'A boy. Nineteen years old.' Kya sat up straight and looked at me curiously. 'He was stranded on an island with me.' I told her. 'I trained him. Turned him into a man. Taught him how to stay alive.'

_'What was his name?'_

His name? I almost always called him Kid. It just seemed to become his name. I hadn't thought about Oliver in a long time. I should have. We were brothers. But life got busy. We drifted apart.

'Oliver,' I told her. 'His name was Oliver. And he was a wimp when I met him. Utterly pathetic. You would've been able to take him on back then - easy. But after two years, he was the best fighter I have ever met.'

_'Only two years?'_

'I will do the same for you, Kya. You will become a warrior. I will make sure you survive.'

Oliver had become a survivor. He became someone worthy; someone his father would have been proud of. Adeline had been only a few weeks pregnant when I had been called away and marooned on that godforsaken island. I had come home to find my wife waiting for me with my two-year-old son, Grant. Billy, the best man at our wedding, had been there for my wife and son when I couldn't. I'd be forever grateful to that man. I trusted him with my life, and the lives of my family – no hesitation. He was the godfather to both my sons. My oldest even bearing his name, Grant William. That had been Addie and my plan for years beforehand.

After nearly a year, I found a boy, Oliver. We swore we would escape together. He was like a brother to me. Oliver was twelve years younger than me. Too young to have to face the hell that we did. Too young to be tortured. But the kid was strong. He never gave in. Two years later we managed to send a distress signal and not even a week after, William Wintergreen came and pulled us out. I have never been more glad to see that old man in my life.

Of course, I kept tabs on him. Oliver and I still keep in touch occasionally, however, our contact grew less and less over the years. I watched him from afar as he became a vigilante. I was always there for him when he needed help and I always would be. But life was busy and neither of us has the luxury to be regularly involved with each other. Oliver knew my sons; he knew Joey held his name. Joseph Oliver. But he also knew how dangerous it was for us to be together. Still, it seemed a waste to not visit him, being only a few hours from Star City.

Kyla didn't ask anything more until dinner an hour later. It was obvious her curiosity had been piqued by Oliver. She wanted to know more. Though it still took a little coaxing to convincer her to ask.

_'You saved him? The boy. Oliver.'_

I nodded.

'He was nineteen when we met. Naive. I taught him how to survive. He was a good friend. A brother. I trust him with my life.'

_'Why?'_

'I don't know,' I told her. 'Truthfully, I've never thought about it.' I dropped my chin to rest on my hands and thought back to those long days. The days we spent in hell. But we spent them together and together we survived.

'We were stuck on that godforsaken island. He wouldn't have survived if I didn't help him. And I needed help to escape as well. I taught him how to fight. We had each other's backs. He stumbled across my camp. He was dressed like the enemy. I threatened to kill him. A… mutual friend, who had been compromised – we got separated – found Oliver first and sent him to me. I told him that if he was going to have my back, I needed to know he could cover it. He had no skill, no strength, no training… it was a miracle he was still alive. I told him to pick a weapon. I needed his help to escape. You needed to men to take the airfield – I trained Oliver so we could escape together. And we did.'

_'And what about now?'_

'I keep an eye on him, from time to time. He's a good kid. He can take care of himself.' That was enough stories for one day. I stood up, 'alright, kid. Things to do. Let's go.'


End file.
